"There, let's say no more about it," he said gently.
"Yes, I must. I've been thinking about myself while we were walking along. Thinking of your past isn't always pleasant, is it, when there's so much of it that don't suit you. But I've wanted to improve, and I've tried. Do you think I've improved, a little—David?"
The wistful voice drew his hand upon her shoulder.
"I wish I had grown as much!" he breathed.
She pressed his hand an instant to her cheek, then rose and peered up into his face. "Do you say that!" she said eagerly. "If I've tried to improve—you know why."
He looked quickly from her tremulous face, out upon the million-faceted river. He writhed at the pain she must be feeling now, or would some day feel, and was abased that he was its cause.
"Oh, why did things have to happen so!" he exclaimed in a whisper.
"What happen?"
"That you should want—to please me."
She did not speak at once, but her hand locked tightly upon his arm and he felt her eyes burning into him. At length she whispered, in a voice taut with emotion: